"Pardon me, I know too much about it to laugh."
"The tower," said Sidney suddenly turning to Stephen. "I know you can see it from here. Often and often I have sat in the darkness under yonder tree and watched the shapes in the light that streamed from the windows. All bad shapes--all wicked spirits," said Sidney. "The Colonel was so wicked that nothing good would come near him."
Ida thought that this conversation had gone quite far enough, and when Herrick glanced at her interposed, "Sidney you are talking nonsense!"
The boy got up in a kind of cold rage. "Always nonsense," said he, "because you are all blind and stupid." And he walked away.
"Is he mad?" said Robin, his mouth open.
Bess was about to contradict him rather indignantly when Santiago interposed. "He is far from mad," said he, "but he has a wonderful gift, denied to us who are of common clay. Of course the doctor does not believe in this. He is a materialist."
"No, I am not," replied Herrick rather nettled, "but I do not believe in things that cannot be proved by the senses."
"I said you were a materialist," replied Santiago, and refused to speak further. It was on another occasion and when no one was present that Jim renewed the conversation.
Meanwhile the doctor was angry at the attention paid by Joyce to Bess. The little man had now known her some weeks and had taken a violent fancy to her. He haunted her like a shadow, and she did not seem to dislike it. Herrick did, but as he had no right to interfere he was obliged to look on in silence. More than ever he regretted his folly in inducing Robin to come down to Saxham. Not for all the schemes in the world would he have Bess Endicotte lose her heart to Joyce. Until this day such an idea had never entered his head: but now he saw more clearly. Bess was distinctly pleased with Robin's attentions. Should she really get to care for him (and Robin was attractive when he liked) Herrick knew that he would be forced to interfere. Even if he had to denounce Joyce to the law, he would put an end to such a possibility. He could not even see the two together without annoyance, and rose abruptly to walk away.
As he went in the direction of the heath, and by almost the same path as he and Joyce had come on that terrible night, he heard a light step behind and turned to see Ida. She looked more lovely than ever, for having followed him rapidly her face was somewhat flushed. Just as he was on the edge of the heath she laid her hand on his arm. A thrill ran through the strong frame of the doctor. He thought this was love. But indeed any man would have felt as much had Ida Endicotte touched him.